


Ivory Keys All Season and Ivory Skin in Winter

by niceofficial



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:08:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niceofficial/pseuds/niceofficial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis knows too much about music as to where it means nothing and all Harry knows is that his train<br/>leaves at 8:20 sharp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ivory Keys All Season and Ivory Skin in Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is my first fanfiction so yeah it's probably not the best but i'm trying and i'm just very excited for this story so please bear with me!!

        Late. He’s late. Too late. Late late late. He scrambles up from his little nest of blankets, hangover already pounding in his head. But he doesn’t have time to feel its pain because he is, _late_.

        He practically slams into the walls in his attempt to make up for lost time. Tripping over a box labeled _important things,_ Louis stumbles into the hall bath, grabbing at his toothbrush while simultaneously turning on this shower. He fumbles for a moment, trying to take off his clothes while applying toothpaste to his brush and ends up somehow in the burning hot shower with a pea sized amount of minty freshness on his chin and boxers only on his left thigh. Louis doesn’t have enough time to sort things out (he kind of wishes he did he thought, because a toothpaste chin and a burning hot shower aren’t the only thing in his life that need to be sorted), so he just wipes the toothpaste off onto his toothbrush, sticks it in his mouth, and quickly washes himself off. Less than 5 minutes later, he’s out; mouth rid of the scent of alcohol and hair as flat as it can get.

        He hurries to his bedroom, thanking whatever god that he set out his clothes for today the night prior. Being careful as not to wrinkle his shirt, Louis bends down to pull on his vans. New vans that is; of course he has to look good for his first day at UNI- or college, whatever they called it in the states. He checks the clock on his phone, _8:03_ it reads. The next train comes at 8:20, well, he prays it does. He’d only had a quick glance at the other times on the paper he’d printed off; Louis had been too focused on _the_ time, the one that would get him to where he needed to go on _time_. But obviously, that had not worked. So rushing out, only making sure he had essentials, Louis left his apartment, locked up, and quickly made his way downstairs. Finally making his way out of the building, he glanced up at the sky, maybe to check for signs of bad weather, but no, it was because Louis realized he had left his stupid freakin’ bedroom window open, to where you could see if it rained (as the forecast had predicted), his wooden floors would be ruined (not that they were in the best shape anyway, but _still_.)            

        But as he glanced up at his window, he couldn’t help but notice a bright green scarf, fluttering in the wind between his building, and a significantly more rundown one across, and for a moment, he worried what that scarf’s owner would do if it was blown out of their apartment. Before he could spare another moment of curiosity, Louis was shoved to the side as someone barreled past them, only sparing him a very weak “ _sorry_!” as they ran by. Huffing, Louis picked up his bag, which had of course, fallen, and like the stranger, made haste, but not knowing they were both headed to the same destination.

       Somehow, he made it to the station at 8:15, he panted, out of breath, and red faced, and hoped the train had not arrived earlier than it usually would. But it hadn’t, and for that he was grateful. Looking around, he fumbled for a moment before pulling out his money and inserting it into the machine, vying his way onto the platform and away from impatient business women and men behind him. He considered for a moment that he needed to get a metro card, not unlike his oyster one he used in London, transport would become so much quicker.

        A train squealed then, and Louis looked at the tracks, seeing lights and then the subway. Soon, everyone began boarding, a bit too quickly, and before Louis knew it, he was fighting to find a place to stand in the small compartment. Luckily, he was somehow able to squeeze his arse onto a seat next to a little old lady and settled down, finally allowing himself to actually _think_ for the first time that morning. And the first thought that came to mind was, _holy fucking shit_.

        He was here; he was _here_ , in New York, going to school, one of the most prestigious schools in that country. _And on a scholarship_ , he reminded himself. Louis was shaking, shaking uncontrollably. _I can’t mess this up, but I already have._ Who in the fuck decided that it was a good idea to go out the night before his first day, _oh yeah_ , _Liam_. That little shit. How, Louis thought, had he been convinced that it was a good idea to even go to a celebratory dinner, and how, he also thought, Liam convinced him to go out and have a few drinks at the bar down the block, and how, did he think that he should drink his head off when he only had his fake ID for a few days.      

        He tried to control his thoughts, they were making him too anxious, and so he looked around the crowded space, and observed the people. His mate, Stan, had told him that Americans were way different from the ‘jolly good folk here in Britain’. But as he looked around, Louis couldn’t find a significant trait which set the two peoples apart. They all had tired eyes, twitchy limbs ready to move away or hit something away at a moment’s notice, and they all smelled bad. Well, that last part might have been the cause of one, smell amplified by the absurd amount of bodies in the increasingly tiny space, but Louis was content with blaming them all, as long as he wasn’t included in that judgment.

        He turned his head to the right and was instantly greeted by the sight of a very good looking character.  Dressed in thread bare boots and a ratty old jacket, Louis thought that this man could have easily been the source of the bad smell that plagued his nose, but for some reason, he knew that that man smelled like something nice and welcoming, probably vanilla and leather. For a moment, Louis wishes he could possibly smell him, not in a creepy way or anything, but like when you cuddle up someone and you can just smell _them_ , not their cologne or fancy lotion, but _them_. _Holy hell,_ Louis’ head was out of the game, he knew he wouldn’t shag this guy, he _knew_ it, for this _guy_ was, well, too _weird_. He was facing Louis, but his head hung down, as if he had fallen asleep standing up, and as Louis looked at him up and down, he noticed he was wearing some sheer button up, but instead of it being buttoned, up, it was buttoned down, all the way to his navel. And there, right above his belly button and right below his pecks, was a large butterfly.

_Who in the hell gets a fuckin butterfly on their stomach?_

_Honestly though_ , Louis thought to himself _. If he has this, what other absurd markings does he have?_

 _Hickies_.

        Of course he would. Just looking at him, Louis’ mind went blank and his heart beat picked up and- this was stupid. What kind of person would fall in momentary-love with some strange stranger on a train in a different country?

        Louis would of course. His heart was sewn onto his sleeve, and when you have to wear it there, it tends to get caught on others hands, and when someone has your heart in their hands, well, you tend to fall quick.

        But holy crap, this was a new record. He’s known this strange stranger for about; he checked his watch, 9 minutes. In that nine minutes, though, Louis realized that maybe love at first site existed and that maybe he really didn’t want it to because it sucks when you fall in love with a strange stranger on a train and- The train squealed to a stop and Louis’ thoughts were interrupted and so was his view of the strange stranger as everyone rushed off, to wherever they were going.

        And as Louis rushed off himself, desperately looking at the map on his phone and around the busy entrance to the subway, he caught a glimpse of the strange stranger, and thought, _fuck my life_.

**Author's Note:**

> okay this is hella short but it's the first kind of chapter (more rather a preview) and so i plan for the rest of them to be longer so okay yeah thanks for reading !!!


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